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Shots rang out and blasted my eardrums. I pulled the hem of my headscarf over my face to shield the dust from my eyes. We were running, blindly, to my mother's house to hide out.

"Come on!" I yelled at my sister, grabbing her arm with my free hand. It was so loud. People running everywhere, animals roaming around, spooked, children crying, men yelling to their wives.

We turned the corner and ran down the alleyway. The sun was not as bright and I finally stopped squinting, my face hurting. We slowed our pace to a fast stride and went down the narrow spiral staircase, made long ago from mud and the fine dust that blew when we were fortunate enough to feel a breeze. The door opened and I saw my mother. I fell down on the steps and grabbed her necklace, the string with the three gleaming oyster shells. I kissed the necklace and started crying. It was all too much.

It seemed I had grown up so much that I could barely fit through the tiny door. I squeezed in and saw the rest of my family. They were all sitting, either on the floor on the benches made my my father. My mother went back to the kitchen and stirred something in the big kettle over the fire. It smelled delicious, and I was glad to be home.

I was relieved this house was underground. Windows would have driven me insane with fear. I felt like I was in a refuge at last. The world above us, full of guns and fire and death, was quickly fading away.

We all sat in silence, eating. How long will this last? I wondered. I prayed for my father's safe return home. I needed to see him again. I had to tell him before it was too late...

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